


Laid Low

by Bofur1



Series: Where Sickness Thrives... [10]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Murder, Biological Warfare, Crimes & Criminals, Desperation, Family Feels, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, King Thorin, Mystery, Post-Quest, Short Chapters, Vulnerability, Worried Dwarves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli becomes extremely ill without warning, and Thorin and Kíli are terrified for him. Then other members of the Company start falling also and they begin to suspect that Fíli’s condition may not be as random as they thought. Those who are left must try to find the would-be assassin, as well as the poison's cure, before illness takes from them what even The Battle of Five Armies couldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I probably shouldn't be starting this when I have so many other things to work on. But I'm going to anyway! :D

“...I’m just saying that you get to do more than I do!” Kíli insisted, in the heat of an argument with Fíli. “You get to spend time with Thorin, right? And I still have to train.” The splash of wine against his goblet accentuated his words.

"Ach, believe me, Kee, you're not missing much," Fíli sighed as he paced behind his brother. " _You're_ the one off having fun and _I'm_ the one stuck in boring meetings about crops!" As he walked past for a third time, Fíli leaned over, snatched the goblet from Kíli’s hand and took a gulp.

"Hey!" Kíli complained. With a sulky glower he continued, "But since you're the first heir, you get first choice of everything! Weapons, drink, girls..." He smirked a bit. “Although it is strange that you haven’t found a wife yet. Is it cos you don’t want one?”

The goblet fell from Fíli’s hand with a sharp clang, causing Kíli to jump. "You shouldn't be so clumsy with that," Kíli rebuked as he glanced over his shoulder at his brother. "That's my favorite—" His words fell away as soon as he saw the color draining from Fíli’s face. "Fee?" Kíli asked anxiously, rising to his feet.

Fíli swayed for a second, his hands coming up to his throat as he groaned out, "P-Pois—" Then he crumpled to the ground.

"Fíli!" Kíli yelped in horror, kneeling beside his brother and calling as loud as he could, "Somebody help!"

Dwalin, who was on his way down the hall to the Council Chamber, whirled toward the door on his right as soon as he hear the terror in Kíli’s voice. Upon charging in, Dwalin burst out, "Lord Mahal! Kíli, what happened?"

"I—I don't know," Kíli protested. "He was fine just a few seconds ago!"

“Obviously he’s not now!” Dwalin said as he scooped up Fíli’s limp body and began the run to the infirmary.

+++

"Where is he?! Where's my nephew?!" Thorin bellowed as he elbowed his way into the infirmary. Shoving Óin aside, Thorin drew in a sharp breath as he saw his heir. Reaching out a shaky hand, he brushed a lock of golden hair from Fíli’s sweat-coated face.

"Thorin!" Kíli cried in relief, rising from his bedside chair and throwing his arms around Thorin's neck. The King for once had no qualms about returning the embrace.

"What happened?" Thorin demanded.

Kíli pulled back. "I...Fee and I were talking about being heirs and such. I poured myself a drink," he stammered. "Fíli took it and drank some, then he went completely pale and collapsed!"

Thorin bit his lip and glanced at Óin. "Will he be alright?" he questioned nervously.

Óin inhaled deeply as he dunked a washcloth into a bowl of water. "I'll do my best to help him," he promised gravely as he settled the washcloth on Fíli’s forehead.

Thorin and Kíli didn't find that very reassuring but, after making Óin promise to come to them if Fíli woke, the King and prince took their leave.

“What could have made him so sick?” Kíli asked worriedly as he and Thorin walked together down the hall.

“I don’t know, but I plan to take a look at that pitcher you poured from,” Thorin replied, his voice hard and detached. Kíli knew that when his uncle sounded this way it meant he was apprehensive.

“He’ll be alright, Thorin. Fíli’s too resilient to let this illness get the better of him,” Kíli ventured, trying to sound comforting. Thorin halted abruptly, causing Kíli to bump into him.

After a long pause, Thorin said in a low voice, “Kíli...I would...prefer it if you called me ‘Uncle’.”

Kíli’s mouth fell open in disbelief. He hadn’t called Thorin that in ages, not since their coronation day two years ago. He had thought it would be disrespectful now that Thorin was the true King and Thorin had never told him otherwise. Until now.

It was amazing how fears about family made an aloof King so vulnerable...

Kíli realized that Thorin was looking back at him, waiting for an answer. Quickly closing his mouth, Kíli gave a short nod. Thorin returned it and then strode away without him.


	2. Chapter 2

“Beg pardon, Mister— _King_ Thorin, but are you accusing me of diseasing your nephew?!” Bombur cried incredulously.

Thorin was trying to be patient. “No,” he disagreed, keeping his voice calm. “I’m simply saying that perhaps you slacked off when you were washing the pitchers and that perhaps there was something in one that made Fíli sick.”

“I don’t slack off,” Bombur announced indignantly. “I thought by now you would know that! I’ve done my job well for three years straight—if you wanted to accuse me you should’ve done it a long time ago!”

“Don’t think, Bombur, that your ties to the Company are an excuse to disrespect me,” Thorin warned, his tone becoming sharp.

Bombur sighed and slumped against one of the many counters in the Royal Kitchens. “I’m sorry, Thorin. I feel terrible for Fíli, but I don’t see how I could have been careless like that. I’m always so careful!”

Thorin crossed his arms. “What do you think it is, then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a germ of some kind?” Bombur laughed mirthlessly. “That, of course, would mean that I _did_ slack off.”

“We all do occasionally,” Thorin reminded him.

“But I don’t, not when it comes to cleaning dishes,” Bombur insisted. “I hate tasting the last meal or soap on my dining ware and I know others do too. That’s why I take the care I do.”

“Well, if you come up with any ideas as to what else might have caused this, come to me,” Thorin requested sadly, turning away. The cook’s pudgy hand caught his elbow.

“He’ll be fine, Thorin,” Bombur said earnestly.

“So I keep hearing,” Thorin muttered.

+++

Kíli brushed his fingertips over Fíli’s flushed cheek. “I’m back,” he whispered, hoping his brother could hear him through the haze of his swiftly rising fever. “And I promise I’ll try not to leave again.” He wished Fíli would smile, would joke that he knew Kíli would try but would get distracted by something and wander off, but since there was no reply but his wavering breaths Kíli knew that was exactly what he would not do.

After washing his hands, Óin sat down on the other side of the bed across from Kíli and put his chin in his hands. “Your brother’s only worsened these past few hours,” the doctor confessed sorrowfully. “I don’t know what to do for—”

“That’s to be expected,” Kíli declared, trying to convince the both of them and knowing he wasn’t at all succeeding. “It always gets worse before it gets better, right?”

Óin stared at him for a long moment before giving an infinitesimal nod. “Aye,” he said softly, gravely. “Aye, it does.”

Kíli felt a chill at his cousin’s tone, but he kept it inward so no one else would know. Fíli wouldn’t want him to be so worried, but that was always the way with the brothers: one getting hurt, the other overreacting, and then it eventually tumbled out alright in the end.

But would it this time?


	3. Chapter 3

Each of the Company brought their best wishes to the infirmary and took turns sitting by Fíli’s bedside with Kíli.

When Nori returned to the chamber he shared with his brothers, he slumped into a chair and muttered, “I should’ve seen this comin’.”

“What?” Ori was confused.

“I…my network monitors potential threats!” Nori burst out. “I should’ve seen that someone was targeting Fíli!”

“It’s likely just a random virus; I doubt anyone was targeting him. Besides, even if someone was, you don’t have eyes on everything, Nori,” Dori reminded him as he sipped at his tea.

“Yes, I do!” Nori insisted. “My mates are the best around—even Dwalin’s complimented them! But how could somebody like this escape their— _my_ —notice?! It just isn’t supposed to happen, not to me! Maybe I need to get fresh eyes…”

Dori let out a gasp, trying to shove the cup of tea onto the dresser but not fully succeeding. It made it halfway to the edge and then tipped, shattering on the ground. Ori and Nori jumped.

“Hey, wasn’t that your best—?” Nori’s question broke off as Dori pitched forward onto the floor. Before Ori could even rise from his chair, Nori had thrown his older brother’s body over his shoulder and was running toward the infirmary.

“It’s not a virus! It’s poison!” Nori burst out. Óin’s head jerked up and, when he saw Dori’s still form, his face drained of color.

+++

“Poison,” Thorin agonized. “I should’ve known!”

“That’s what I said,” Nori agreed.

Kíli gaped at Thorin, then at Nori, and back again. All at once, his eyes went very wide. "Uncle...was Fíli’s poison meant for me?" he asked hoarsely. “It…it was my drink he took.”

Thorin grasped his younger nephew’s shoulders. “You need to keep out of sight; they might try to take another pass at you!”

Nori shook his head. “No, they’re targeting the whole Company, no matter the order. Any one of us could be a target at any time!”

“We need to warn them not to drink anything,” Kíli gasped.

Again Nori shook his head, explaining, “He won’t repeat himself again. He’s used that method twice; now he’s gotta shake things up.”

Thorin stared at him. “You speak as though from expertise.”

Nori’s dark eyes narrowed. “And if I am?”

Thorin released a heavy sigh. “Then we’ll need your expertise to catch him.”

Nori couldn’t help but smile thinly. “Cor. Never thought I’d hear something like that from you.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Thorin snapped. “I’ve let you get away with so much, you owe me a few favors!”

“Alright, alright,” Nori soothed, holding up a placating hand. “Don’t worry your crown, Thorin King. Of course I’ll help, because now…” His mouth turned up in a manic, vengeful smile. “…now he’s made it personal for _me_.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Óin couldn’t understand it. Every type of medicine he’d tried to give Fíli and Dori was instantly rejected or, much to Óin’s horror, only seemed to make their conditions worse.

“I’m supposed to be the most brilliant doctor in all of Erabor,” he muttered ruefully as he mixed a brew that would hopefully lower their fevers. “Some brilliance.” Helping Fíli sit up a bit, he coaxed, “Alright, lad, just a sip or two of this…”

The Prince groaned quietly and turned his head away, allowing Óin to see that his feverish flush was spreading down his neck into his chest.

“Oh…” Óin bit his lip. “Fíli, what on earth did that villain give you?” Sighing, he ran a thumb over Fíli’s damp brow and then stumbled over to sit in his chair. These past few days had been run together with nonstop work and he was exhausted beyond belief. For hours he had been running from one patient to the other, trying to help in whatever ways possible. The only time he’d left was to get an extra set of clothes in case he inadvertently spent the night.

Collapsing into the seat, Óin leaned back and filled his pipe, trying to relax. He took a long draw and winced at the taste, thinking that perhaps he’d put too much.

When he started seeing double only a few minutes later, he realized the truth.

“Oh, you’re clever,” he whispered as the world tilted. “Very clever, indeed…”

Bombur carefully nudged open the door with a tray of food, calling out, “Óin, I brought—oh no, not you! Dw-Dwalin, Mr. Dwalin! Come quickly…!”

+++

Dwalin knew Thorin was looking at him, silently asking why he hadn’t reached Fíli sooner, why he couldn’t have prevented it. Dwalin didn’t have anything to tell him except “I’m sorry, Thorin.”

“It’s not your fault,” Thorin sighed. “I just don’t…I wouldn’t be able to cope if Fíli were to…”

“I know,” Dwalin cut in softly as he saw Thorin struggling with the word. “I know.”

It was then that a wild-eyed Bombur burst into the room.

“Dwalin! You have to come quickly!”

Dwalin immediately snapped to alert, thundering after him into the infirmary. When he saw Óin sprawled on the floor with his pipe cupped loosely in one hand, Dwalin’s heart-rate quickened to a panicked pace.

“They may still be here,” he said to Bombur. “I’m going to get a weapon and we’re going to scour this place!”

“It’s only one room—” Bombur tried to protest, but Dwalin would hear none of it.

“I don’t care! If he’s still here, I want him _dead_! You can see that’s what he’s been planning for Fíli and Dori—now he’s hit their doctor!”

Bombur pursed his lips fearfully but nodded and Dwalin rushed back to his room. He was going to get Grasper and Keeper from above his bed but decided he didn’t have time to pull them down, seizing up Balin’s mace instead. As he took off, he didn’t hear the quiet curse of frustration that came from the shadows.


	5. Chapter 5

“Bombur…what’re ye doin’?”

“I’m making an appetizer. What does it look like?” Bombur snapped, barely looking up at his brother as he obsessively stirred the pot of soup in front of him.

“It looks like ye’re panickin’,” Bofur answered matter-of-factly.

Bombur whirled at that, waving his ladle wildly through the air. “I am _not_ panicking!” he hollered angrily.

Bofur wiped away the splashes of soup that had flown off Bombur’s ladle and onto his face. He licked his fingers and smiled cheerlessly. “S’good.”

Bombur watched as Bofur left silently and groaned, throwing the ladle back into the soup. Maybe he should just dump the whole pot and start again. Surely soup that was boiled in anger wouldn’t be any good, and Bombur _needed_ it to be good.

He was having dinner with his wife, but not in the usual way. Daloa was putting the children to bed early and it was going to be just the two of them. Everything had to be right!

Bombur _was_ panicking, he knew. He was afraid that if he left the food for just one second, something terrible would happen to it. Nonetheless it all ended up fine as he sat across from his wife at their long table.

“How long has it been since we ate just the two of us?” Daloa asked quietly.

“…Years,” Bombur replied forlornly. “It’s been years and I’m so sorry.”

Daloa laughed. “Don’t be. I love our children and I love you.”

Bombur blushed the color of their wine and stood to get dessert. He returned soon enough and set it in front of her, beaming as she exclaimed in delight and started on it.

“You remembered this cake was my favorite!” Daloa cried happily as she swallowed. Leaping to her feet, she threw her arms around Bombur’s neck.

“Of course I did,” he answered tenderly, returning the hug. She made a muffled noise and he stepped back slightly, afraid he was squeezing too hard.

Her face was pale.

Bombur’s went even paler.

“No,” he gasped, catching her as she started sinking to the floor. “ _NO!_ ”

+++

“This is the last straw!” Dwalin raged as he stormed down the hall. “They’re going after the Dwarrowdams now—Daloa of all people!—and I’m not going to rest until I hunt them down!”

Balin hurried to keep up with Dwalin’s longer legs, pleading, “You need a strategy, brother!”

“I have one: seek, find, and destroy!” Dwalin bellowed, causing his voice to echo continuously down the hall.

Balin cringed. “Dwalin, what if they’re here? They’ll be able to hear you!”

Dwalin halted abruptly, turning slowly toward him with a very peculiar expression. Balin yipped as Dwalin grabbed his arm painfully and yanked on him.

“Get behind me then,” he ordered in a low voice.

“What?” Balin sputtered. “Alright, now you’re just being ridiculous!”

“I’ll not have them shooting you with any poison darts or something!” Dwalin declared, pushing Balin backwards down the hall.

Trying not to trip over his scholar’s robes, Balin announced,  “Brother, _please_ —Mahal’s great name, I’m not helpless, you know!”

Dwalin didn’t honor this with a response, instead nudging Balin to the left and into their chambers. Once they were both inside, Dwalin planted Balin on the edge of his bed and stalked toward his axes.

“I’m going out on a search,” he explained as he got Grasper and Keeper off their hooks. “You stay here.”

“No!” Balin cried indignantly. “I’m not a child! I can surely take care of myself!”

“None of the others could,” Dwalin reminded him grimly as he turned toward the door. “And it may not be apparent because your beard’s already white, but you’re not getting any younger, brother. I have to step up for everyone. I’m the Captain of the Guard!” Suddenly Dwalin sank to his knees. Balin leapt up in alarm.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked fearfully.

Dwalin remained in a kneeling position for a few tense seconds before muttering a foul word as he passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

Nori knocked softly on the partially-open door of the infirmary, hoping he wasn’t about to make a mistake.

“Nori,” a voice spoke up, its tone a weary mixture of relief and misery. Nori paused in the doorway when Ori stood and shuffled toward him. “Have you come to see Dori?”

Nori risked a look over Ori’s shoulder and then wished he hadn’t. He’d rarely, if ever, seen Dori look so…defenseless, shivering violently and making little heart-rending whimpers in his delirium.

“Ah…well,” Nori stammered. “I c-came to see Glóin.” His heart rolled into a puddle of pain when he saw the look on Ori’s face.

“Oh.” Ori’s voice was tiny. “He’s over there.” He pointed in the corner where the auburn-haired Dwarf sat by his prostrate brother, his head in his hands.

“Glóin?” Nori ventured. Glóin looked up, sniffing inconspicuously.

“What?” he mumbled.

“Um, I need your help. Strategizing and stuff.”

“No.”

Nori blinked. “What? But Glóin, it’s the only way to save your broth—”

“The way I’m going to save my brother is by staying right here!” Glóin shouted, shoving Nori toward the door. “If he’s going to wake up, I’m going to be the first face he sees because that’s the way it should be! Maybe you ought to get over and see yours once in a while!”

Nori flinched as the door slammed in his face. Throwing up his hands, he muttered, “Fine, then. I’ll go to Bofur!”

…“I’m sorry, Nori!” Bofur shouted above the racket of his twelve nieces and nephews. “But I can’t get away from these young’uns right now! Bombur’s asked me an’ Bifur t’ watch them!”

“Uncle Bofur!” Nori couldn’t even see the one who was speaking. “Uncle Bifur won’t tell us how he got the axe in his head! Will you tell us?”

“Just a second, honey, I’m talkin’ t’ yer Uncle Nori!” Bofur hollered back, his assuring smile vanishing as soon as he looked back at Nori. “I wish I could, but Bombur seemed t’ be in a great hurry an’ maybe if I do this fer him he won’t stay mad at me fer interruptin’ him while he was makin’ an appetizer! Sorry again!”

Nori sighed and shrugged. “Alright, just tell me when you’re free.” He yelped as a block of wood pegged him in the forehead and turned to see the culprit hanging over Bifur’s shoulder, snickering wickedly.

“Doli, what’ve yer parents said about throwin’ things at people?!” Bofur rebuked in a tone made harsh with stress. The little girl instantly burst into tears, causing Bifur to howl something unintelligible at the ceiling.

Nori decided to make a break for it before anything else hit him. As he walked down the hall, he heard someone else shouting louder than all the children combined: Dwalin. Wondering what had made him so cross, Nori quickened his pace to catch up with his friend and his brother, who was currently saying something about strategy.

“Whoops! Sorry there,” Nori apologized as he bumped into Thorin Stonehelm, Dain Ironfoot’s son. The prince barely acknowledged him, shouldering past and stalking down the hall. “What’s got everyone so peeved today?” Nori muttered. His complaint was abruptly cut off as Balin cried out, rushing from his room and speeding straight for Thorin’s.

“Balin, what’s afoot?” Nori demanded, catching the frantic scribe by the edge of his clothing.

“It’s Dwalin!” Balin cried. “His axes had some kind of… _something_ on them! He’s been poisoned!”

Nori stared at him for five seconds. That was all it took for something in him to snap. Every bone in his body stiffened, bringing him up like some kind of hooded snake. Then he whirled, bolting like lightning down the halls of Erabor and out the grand doors toward the city of Dale.


End file.
